From Novel to Theatre: Contemporary Adaptations of Narrative to the French Stage

Author(s): Judith Graves Miller

Source: Theatre Journal, Vol. 33, No. 4 (Dec., 1981), pp. 431-452
Published by: Johns Hopkins University Press
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3206769
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 JUDITH GRAVES MILLER

FromNovel to Theatre:Contemporary
to the
Adaptationsof Narrative
FrenchStage

The kindofexplosioncreatedby [Godard's]longpoem,Pierrot le fou[1965]blasteda

chasmbetweenthetheatre
completeand terrifying thatwas stillbeingproducedand
whatwas happening [theNewNovel,TelQuell,inpainting,
inliterature injazz, andin
ofa newkindofpopularmusic.Therewasa gapinsensitivity
thebeginnings between the
as itwas thenandwhatI reallylikedin theartsand inlife.That'swhyI saidto
theatre
myself:"We'regoingto do theatrebut we won'tdo theatre-theatre, we won'tstage
classicalplays: we'll tryto writeour own texts."
of theNationalDramatic
JoLavaudant,director
CenteroftheAlps,Grenoble, France1

JoLavaudant, a contemporaryfavoritewithFrenchtheatregoers and critics,ex-

uberantlyenvisionsa theatre"more filmor literature"than theatreand a theatrear-
tist at least as much creator as interpreter. This conception pervades current
theatricalpracticein France.The lone dramatic author writingin totalor semiisola-
tion, playing the play only in his or her head, has practicallybecome obsolete.
Plays-like novels, essays, poems, and film scripts
- now partakeof thenotionof
"text,"sometimesbenefitting and sometimes suffering from the interpenetration of
genres.
The most imaginativetheatrepeople had already stopped doing traditional
yearsbeforetheeventsof May 1968made talkofrevolutioniz-
theatrea good fifteen
ingthetheatrede rigueur.In thelate 1960sand early1970sinnovationtook theform
of collective endeavor, particularlywith the goal of creatinga political piece.
Recently- and markedlysince1975- Frenchtheatrehas been characterizedifnotto
say overwhelmedby adaptations of nondramatictexts. Computationsbased on
Pariscope,a weeklyentertainment guide,show thatadaptationshave accountedfor
one out of everyfiveParisianproductionsin the last threeyears.

JudithGraves Miller is Associate Professorof Frenchat the Universityof Wisconsin-Madisonand the

authorof Theatreand Revolutionin Francesince 1968.

1 JacquesPoulet, "Chapitresuivant: Revoltes:J. Poulet s'entretient

avec GeorgesLavaudant,"France
Nouvelle, 5 March 1979, p. 44 (emphasisadded). All quotationsin thisarticle,exceptfromthe novels
MartinEden,David Copperfield,and The Sea Wall (HermaBriffault's Englishversionof Un Barragecon-
trele Pacifique)are my own translationsfromthe originalFrench.

431

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432 / TI, December
1981

Attempting to bridgethe"sensitivity
gap"mentionedby Lavaudant,theseadapta-
tionshave resultedin some of the most startlingtheatricalizations
of the past few
seasons. In June1979 alone, nineofthethirty
showslistedin Pariscopewereadapta-
tions,amongthema soberingGetdrunkwithBaudelaire,adaptedfromhispoems; a
baroque and sentimentalized Mephisto,fromthe Klaus Mann novel; a successful
theatricalromp throughVoltaire's philosophical essay Zadig; and a merciless
telescopingof Roger Martindu Gard's eight-volumeThe Thibaultsinto forty-five
minuteswith theirsoldier-sonJacques. The plethoraof adaptationscaused Eric
Westphal,a bona fideplaywright,to remark,"I'mstupified. . . . In thesuburbsa
directorhad someone adapt Balzac's Les Paysans [The Peasantry].What does that
do forBalzac and thetheatre.An adaptationis an admissionof impotencyor at the
veryleast, a lack of confidence."2
The brio of theadaptorsbelies Westphal'sjudgment.Like Lavaudant,theyalign
of thetheatre:"Thetheatreis
themselvesbehinddirectorAntoineVitez'sredefinition
someonewho takeshis materialwhereverhe findsit- even thingsnotmade forthe
stage- and putsthemon stage. Or, rather,stagesthem."3Vitez'scleverformulation
speaksto theongoingevolutionin theroleof thedirector.Since thebeginningof the
twentiethcentury,he or she has emergedas mainstayand primarycreatorof the
theatricalventure-which now includesinitiatingadaptingprojectsor even doing
theadaptations.What mattersis not whattheauthormeantthetextto say but how
the directorreads it.
As criticRaymondeTempkinenotes,the texthas an equal but not greatervalue
than the decor, music, and lighting.4An adaptor such as Genevieve Serreaucan
thereforejustifyher 1977 adaptation of Balzac's La Vie privie et publique des
animaux (The Privateand Public Lifeof Animals) by explainingthather director
wantedto see Grandville'snineteenth-century forthe novella come to
illustrations
lifeon stage. And Jean-LouisBarrault,adaptor-director of some eleven plays, in-
cludinga modernizedRabelais whichtouredAmericain 1969-1970,confessesthat
he plungesinto a new adaptingprojecteverytimehe needs to revitalizehis theatre
practice.Barraultreasonsthatbecause greattexts,especiallynovels,permithimto
visualize theiruniverse,his own creativenesssoars when he stagesthem.-
Novels have indeedinspiredthemostabundantand originaladaptations.At least
a dozen of theseenlivenedthe 1977-1978 season: the best being the Salamandre's
adaptationof JackLondon'sMartinEden, MargueriteDuras's 1'EdenCinema (Eden
Cinema), a reworkingof hernovel Un Barragecontrele Pacifique(The Sea Wall),
and theThieatredu Campagnol and Theatredu Soleil's dramatizationof Dickens's
David Copperfield.In most instancesadaptors or an adaptor-director,such as

2 MichelGrey,"Dialogue avec troisauteurs

dramatiques:Entretien avec Jean-ClaudeGrumberg,Jean-
nineWorms,et EricWestphal,"Le Mensuel de la Comedie Francaise,(May-June1979), p. 25.
avec AntoineVitez: Faire theitrede tout,"Digraphe(April 1976), p.
3 Danielle Sallenave, "Entretien
as synonymouswitha prosetext."Narration"willrefer
117. Throughoutthisarticle,I willuse "narrative"
to spokennarrative.
4
RaymondeTempkine,"Theitreet roman,"Europe (April1978), pp. 212-19.
5 Jean-LouisBarrault,"Le Roman adapte au theitre. .," CahiersRenaud-Barrault (October 1976), pp.
27-58.

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433 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

Simone Benmussa,workedalone, creating,in Benmussa'scase a theatrepiece from

George Moore's AlbertNobbs. Other adaptations-Eden Cinema, for one-were
done by novelistswho redesignedtheirown novels forthe stage. Still others,like
MartinEden and David Copperfield,resultedfromcollectiveimprovisations based
on literaryclassics.
While thephenomenonof adaptingnovelsforthetheatredatesback in Franceto
the mid-nineteenth centurywhen dramatistscontinuallyborrowed plots and
charactersfromother writers'texts,these new adaptations bear witnessto the
growthof structuralexperimentation in the arts. At the end of the century,the
naturaliststurnedtheirown novelisticslices of lifeinto well-madedramaticones;
and by borrowingthestructure of thebourgeoisdrama,theyforsookthepossibility
of real theatricalexperimentation.
Contemporaryadaptationsofnovelsare interesting preciselybecauseadaptorsat-
to
tempt pursue narrativetechniques on the stage. Ratherthanturningnovels into
theatrepieces accordingto a dramaticformula,theyoftenmaintainthe narrative
voice, substituting storytellersforcharacters.In some cases adaptationseven seem
to objectifythe act of reading: in Remegen,a 1979 adaptation of Anna Segher's
novel ofthesamename,theactionbeginsat one side of thestage,glidesto theother,
thenrecommences -like the turningpages of a novel.
Responsibleforlaunchingthenew vogue of adaptationswithhis 1972 production
of MichelTournier'sVendrediou la vie sauvage (Fridayor Lifein theWilds),itselfa
rereadingof RobinsonCrusoe,AntoineVitezalso firstformulateda new theoryon
how to treata novel's text:"ifone wants to stage a novel, one mustalso stage the
novel'sflesh,its narrativethickness.Yes, I mean houses and streets."6Descriptions
cannot be omittedfromthe stage presentation,but mustbe includedin what is
spoken. Thus in Catherine,his 1975 adaptation of Aragon's Les Cloches de Bifle
(The Bells of Basel) and theproductionwhichhas provideda model fornumerous
adaptations,Vitez uses entiresectionsof narrative.Sometimesthe actors simply
give voice to both descriptionsand conversations,includingthe designations:"he
said" "she said." At othertimes,in a more traditionalvein, the actors give lifeto
definedcharacters.
Of all the recentadaptations, threealready cited fromthe prolific1977-1978
season standout as thosewhichcome closestto realizingVitez'sidea of bringingthe
novel'sfleshto thestage. They also successfullydemonstrateLavaudant'sdesireto
explode the notionof theatre.MartinEden, Eden Cinema, and David Copperfield
blendnarrativetechniqueswithdramaticones. They attestto theinterchangeability
of genres- while stillnot denyingcertaindramaticconfines.They work as theatre
piecesbut theyalso challengetheirpublic to accept a kindof theatrewhichmirrors
thelifeof the mind.
In thefollowingstudyofthesethreeadaptations,thenoveland theplay scriptwill
be comparedto determinehow thetexthas been transformed. In instanceswherethe
narrativeotherthan dialogue- that is, descriptions,commentary,interiormono-

6 Sallenave, p. 120.

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434 / TI,December
1981

logue,or journeysintothecharacters'minds- has beenmaintainedas in thenovel,a

discussionof thescenicwritingwill show how the narrativehas become dramatic.
Finally,a conclusionbased on all threetheatrepieces will suggesthow thecurrent
practiceof adaptation places contemporaryFrenchtheatrein the mainstreamof
twentieth-centuryexperimentations in narrativestructure.7

Americansknow JackLondonas theauthorof adventurestoriessuch as The Call

of theWildand WhiteFang. The French,giventheirspecialinterest in writerswhose
workhas a definitesociologicaland politicalcontentor a subjectmatterwhichcan
be analyzed in those terms,preferto all his work MartinEden, the semiautobio-
graphicalaccountof a Californiasailorwho throughthelove of a highsocietycol-
lege girl,native ability,and intensedeterminationbecomes an intellectualand an
artist.Once he has "arrived"thehypocrisyand emptinessof his situation,thefalse
rapportsit setsup betweenhimand his beneficiariesand admirers,thequestionable
motivesthatlead his beloved to consentto marriageprovokehis suicide (a suicide
whichforeshadowedLondon'sown in 1916, ten years afterthe publicationof the
novel).
WhereastheAmericanreadingpublic,especiallyin London'slifetime, interpreted
MartinEden as a successstoryturnedsour by unrequitedlove, theFrenchconcen-
trateon thenovel'sindirectattackon individualismand directcondemnationof the
bourgeoisie.For them,Martin'slack of class consciousnessand not his haplesstaste
in women is the real cause of his downfall.
In fact,the novel has threemajor but poorlyintegratedfoci. It can be read as a
and as a handbookforaspiringwriters.As Lon-
love story,as a politicalstatement,
don does indeed seem most interestedin puttingdown the insensitiverich, he
transforms what beginsas a convincingromanceinto a melodramaticconfronta-
tion.In thecourseof thenovel, Ruth,thespoiledbut charmingfianc&eand symbol
of thebourgeoisie,growsmoreand morewooden and predictableuntil,deprivedof
life,she makesMartin'ssteadfastattachment appearludicrous.Givenhispassionfor
writing,the subjectof an abundance of chapters,it is hard to believe thatMartin
cannot survivewithouther. His furywith criticsand college Englishprofessors
oughtby itselfto have kepthim alive.
Perhapsit is best to understandMartinEden as a tragicbildungsroman in which
thetwenty-year-old hero seeksboth to definehimselfaccordingto what he was - a
hearty, unanalyticalproduct of the American working class-and to recreate
himselfaccordingto whathe can be - a self-aware,highlyindividualistic writer.His
dilemma, of which he becomes conscious only at the end of the novel, is thatthe

7 My analysesof thesethreeproductionsare based bothon thetextsand on thestagingswhichI saw in

especiallyto theSalamandreand theCampagnolwho provided
Francein thewinterof 1978. I am grateful
me withaccess to theirarchivesand copies of theirunpublishedadaptations.

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435 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

bourgeoissocietyin whichhe lives and loves does not allow him to integratethese
two selves.
In one of the manydiscussionsof Martin'spoetics,London defineswhat can be
consideredthe style of his own novel: "His work was realism,thoughhe had
endeavoredto fuseit withthefanciesand beautiesof imagination.What he sought
was an impassioned realism, shot throughwith human aspirationand faith."8
Subscribingto the epithet"realistic,"MartinEden proceeds chronologicallyfrom
episode to episode,each begunby a significant
eventand each concludedby another
significanteventor incident.These episodeseventuallyculminatein a climacticmo-
mentfromwhichthenovel'send inevitablyunfolds.What propelsthereaderis the
desireto know what will happen to MartinwhenRuthabandons himas, it is clear,
she will.
The "realistic"story(that is contemporaryto the writerand anchoredin social
documentation)can be dividedin two parts;thefirst(twenty-one chapters)includes
Martin'sencounterwith RuthMorse, his education,his discoveryof writingas a
vocation, his work in a laundry,his embracingof HerbertSpencer'ssocial dar-
winism,and his winningof Ruth. The second part (twenty-five chapters),not as
clearlyorganizedin episodes,deals especiallywithhis growingawarenessof upper-
class hypocrisy.It can be dividedinto a periodof unsuccessfulwritingin his Grub
St. digs,his encounterwithalter-egoBrissendenwho introduceshim to socialism,
his expoundingof his own individualism,and hisbetrayalby Ruth.The novel'send-
ing,a parodyof a successstory,bringsback all thecharactersand resolvestheirre-
lationshipto Martinin a chronicleof his decline.
Severaldifferentkindsofchapterscontributethe"passion"to the"realism."These
rangefromthedidactic(Martin'sthoughtson writing,Spencer,and politics)to the
psychological(analyses of Martin and Ruth'sincompatibility) to the sociological
(commentaries on the lifestyleof the Morses) to the adventurous(descriptionsof
Martin'sbouts with recalcitranteditors).
A third-person narratortellsthestoryas ithappened,beginningby qualifyingthe
emotional"otherness" of theprotagonist.Martin'sdifference is also communicated
throughwhat Martinsees and thinksabout himself.Fromthe outset,the narrator
entersinto Martin'smind to let the reader know what he is experiencing.Thus,
althoughthe "I" is not used, it is in factMartin's"I" whichfocusesthe novel. His
pointof view is so potentthatby theend of thefirstchapter,thereadercompletely
empathizeswithhis situation.
London also frequentlyemploys a narrativetechniquewhich takes the reader
fromMartin'sperceptionsof the exteriorworld to his interiorvision. Words and
sense impressionsconstantlytransportMartinto his past to createthe feelingof
schizophreniawhichestablishesthenovel'smood: Yes, Martinloves life.Yes, lifeis
good. No, he does not understandthe world. No, he will never "make it." On
meetingRuth'slovelymotherforthefirsttime,forexample,Martinsuddenlyfinds
himselfplungingbackwards in time to otherencounterswith beautiful- but un-
touchable- ladies.

8 JackLondon, MartinEden (New York: Airmont,1970), p. 180.

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436 / TI,December
1981

Although the narratoroccasionally entersinto the minds of the other main

characters,he rarelyallows themany complexity.The "villains,"such as Martin's
brother-in-law,Higgenbotham,condemn themselvesthroughtheir own coarse
dialogue. The narratoralso profershis own opinions with increasingfrequency
towards the end of the novel. Ruth especially bears the brunt of his negative
judgments.
Primarilybecause of the reader'ssympathywithMartin,the novel succeeds. In
the last few chapters,London's skill in depictingMartin'salienation,his loss of a
senseof self,and his decisionto seek peace in theocean whichforso long had nur-
turedhis soul and formedhis spiritcompensatesforthemuddleof themiddlesec-
tion. In addition, the arrestingdescriptionsof hard, physical labor impose
themselveswithenough forceto alter the reader'sunderstanding of the world of
work.
The storyof theworking-classboy succeedingas an artistcloselyparalleledthe
professionalhistoryof the Salamandre,a theatretroupebornof theeventsof May
1968.9The troupe'sesthetic,to challengethenotionof artistichierarchyand com-
placentdrama,underlaytheirdecisionto adapt MartinEden forthestage.Martin's
stubbornrefusalof communityprovidedtheactorsa negativemodel. In theiradap-
tationtheycould suggestan oppositemode of action.
The troupeobtainedtherightsto theprojectin thespringof 1976. A four-person
crew,includingthedirectorGildas Bourdet,a dramaturg, scenographer,and one ac-
torimmediately begandesigninga performance space whichwould helprecreatethe
atmosphereof the novel.10The 350-seat enclosed playing area theyconstructed
resembleda ship'sdeck. Made ofwood withtrapsand doors forstoringprops,and
graced by multiperformance levels, the space could also take on the contoursof
whatevertheaction suggested.
Six moreactorsjoined the originalgroupin thefall to begindevelopingthe text
scenically.The directorhad thembase theirimprovisationsdirectlyon passages
fromthenovel." Afterthreemonthsofrehearsal,theSalamandreperformed a Mar-
tinEden unanimouslypraised forits faithfulness
to London's own words.12

The text is, indeed, quite faithful.Despite extensiveparaphrasing,the actors

added almostnothing.The paraphrasingitselfusuallysmoothstransitions between
partsof a chapteror differentchapters thathave been condensedinto one scene. A
few changes in the textmake it more contemporary.When Brissendendescribes

9 The Salamandre,likeseveralof thebestyoungtroupesin contemporary France,had itsoriginsin the

"activestrikes"of May 1968 when the directorof Le Havre's maison de la cultureasked a group of
neophyteactorsto help the"revolution" agit-proppiecesin local factories.Fromthattime
by performing
the troupe,now animatingthe DramaticCenterof theNorthin Tourcoing(near Lille), has practiceda
styleof corrosivecomedyand a methodof collectivecreation.
10My information on the genesisof theadaptationcomes frominterviewsin TourcoingwithGildas
Bourdet,Alain Milianti,and Jean-LoupVerryof the Salamandre,June1979.
11The troupeused Claude Cendr&e'stranslationof MartinEden (Paris: Hachette,1973) foritsadapta-
tion.
12
FranqoisChaletin FranceSoir (10 November1977) remarked,forexample,that"onehas theimpres-
sion of readingthe novel while watchingtheperformance."

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437 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

3011,

A\,:
M~k ?S

MartinEden:Martinencounters
Ruth(symbolizedby herdress).Photograph
by Nicholas
Treatt.

what kind of woman Martin really needs, for example, his choice of adjectives
reflectsthefranknessof the 1970s.
- objectivedescription,
The Salamandreuses all of London'snarrativestrategies
third-person commentary, interior
visions, biased
descriptions by Martin'spointof
view. In factmore thanhalfof theplay is narrated(descriptionand commentary)
ratherthanactedout in dialogueform.The troupeemploysnumeroustechniquesto
make thisnarrationdramatic.One of thebest involvesturningthe narrativeinto
dialogue,as, forexample,whennumerousenemiesand Martinassemblein a televi-
sion talkshow format.As each characternarrateswhathas becomeofMartin,he or
she stopsas thoughposinga question.Martinfinishesthethoughtas thoughgiving
an answer,whichanothercharacterthenpicks up:
THE INTERVIEWER: He readmagazines in whichhe was mentioned?
MARTIN: He couldn't theauthorofso manybestsellerswas
himself;
recognize
only...
THE INTERVIEWER: A wisp of smoke,anillusion.
.. 13
Many of thescenestransform narrativeintolong dramaticmonologues.Each has
a distinctstyle.In one, in whichMartindescribesthehourshe spendswriting,an ac-
torsingsthelinesto an accompanimentof rockmusic.In another,in whichMartin
discoversHerbertSpencer'sunifying principle,an actorspews out all of life'sinter-
connected aspects-"love, poetry, earthquakes, fire [...], beauty, murder, lovers,
greyhoundsin general,tobacco" (p. 29)- in a standupcomic'sroutine.
13The Salamandre,MartinEden, unpublishedmanuscript,p. 65. Additionalreferences
will be in the
text.

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438 / T],December
1981

Martin'sinteriorthoughtsare dramatizedin scenessuchas one in whichtwo Mar-

tins(the "old"and the "new")face each other,one shavingthe other'sface:

MARTIN NO. 1: After

leafing a bookontheetiquette
through ofpersonal
cleanliness
...
MARTIN: NO. 2: he decidedhe needed a cold bath . . .
MARTINNo. 1 & 2:e ve ryday.
[p. 13]

This dualismnot only giveslifeto thenarrativebut also indicatesinteriorconflict:

WhenRuthbreaksherengagementto Martin,two actressesread the"Dear John"let-
tershe sends him. One cries; the otherlaughs.

Other visual metaphorsof a more violentphysicalnaturealso theatricalizethe

narrative.WhenMartinrecountsthemanyhourshe spendsat theOakland library,
theotheractorsthrowvolumeaftervolumeat him. He is literallyburiedunderthe
weightof knowledge.
These techniquesof "performed narration"ensurea livelyproduction.They also
allow theactorsto commenton thetextwithoutchangingit. This latteraspectgreat-
ly undercutsthecritics'claimsoffaithfulness.
In factthetroupe'sscenicwritingcom-
pletelyreinterpretsthetext. The variations,thechangesin rhythm
constantstylistic
and mood, thealternationfromdialogueto narrationreplacethemultiplicity offoci
in thenovel withthesinglepurposeof thwarting a sentimentalreceptionof Martin's
story. In its choice of passages to include, its orderingof the play, and its
establishingofa differentpointofview fromthenovel's,theSalamandrepresentsits
own readingof MartinEden.

Firstof all, thechoice of episodesreorientsthefocusof thework. By leavingout

lengthyconsiderationsof thesecondarycharacters,includingthescenesofdomestic
chaos at the Higgenbothams'or in Martin's Grub St. digs and the concluding
chaptersin whichMartinsettlesthefutureofhisdependents,theSalamandrecreates
a tighterworkthanthenovel- withall attentioncenteredon Martin.OmittingMar-
tin'smanydiscourseson "how to write"and all of thedetailsabout publishingand
paymentscontributes to theplay'sunity.However,by also leavingout all butone of
Martin'sinteriorjourneys,the Salamandre eliminatesthe crisisof identitywhich
holds the novel together.In its version, the relationshipbetween Martin and
Ruth- with Ruth'sfamilymerelyvisual extensionsof herself - is the only focus.
Sincefromthebeginningof theplay thegroupdesignatesRuthas a class enemy,the
politicalthemefromthe novel becomes theexclusiveconcernof theplay.
A majorchangein orderingalso permitstheSalamandreto imposeitsown inter-
pretationof thetext.The play presentsfirst,and in a blatantlymelodramaticform,
the last chaptersof the novel. In this openingscene, a parody of a Hollywood
classic, a highlycolored and tearfulRuthattemptsto woo Martinback to her. He,
lost and distracted,shoots himselfwhen she leaves. The actors mouththe English
wordswhilea voice in French"dubs"thetext.The additionof Max Steiner'sroman-
ticcinemamusicand flickering of a bad projection,completethe
lights,reminiscent
allusion. Thus the Salamandrein one "cut"eliminatesthe kind of suspense(what

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439 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

?iio~
s~~6i-
"
"
:r~?

~?~

.h~lr~x
*Q

r~*
Lrr^r~~
4lrr

F.

Two actresses ofMartin.Photograph

playRuth'srejection by SabineStrosser.
happens next?)and condemnsthe sortof sentimentalstylewhich would keep the
public fromjudgingMartin.
The troupe'sfundamentalmethodof imposingits point of view is by fracturing
Martin'sconsciousness.All seven actors,includingthewomen,play Martinat dif-
ferentmomentsof theplay. The passage fromscene to scene transpiresby passing
theroleof Martinfromactorto actor.Transferring linesor articlesofclothingcom-
pletesthetransition.The audienceis, therefore,preventedfromidentifying directly
withhim. It mustfirstregistertheactors'opinion.In mostscenes,theperformance
satirizesMartinby showinghim as a sillydupe. In the scene called "A Grammar
Lesson,"forexample,Martinso exaggerateshisworking-class accentthathe appears
not only illiteratebut hopelesslystupid.
Not justthe"hero"but all thecharactersare satirizedin performance.Sometimes
theactorsobjectifya psychologicalstateto ridiculethem.For example,afterRuth
confessesherpenchantforMartinto hermother,thetwo actressesexchangeclothes
and roles,indicatingthattheyreallyare cutfromthesame uppermiddle-classcloth.
GertrudeHiggenbotham'ssubservienceto herhusbandis lampoonedwhen theac-
tressperforming the role repeatsthelast word of each of the husband'slines.
Stage action oftencontradictstheseriousnessof thetextand therefore also serves
to criticizethe characters.In a farcicalsightgag Mr. Morse's disembodiedhand
reachesfromundera very long table to fondleMrs. Morse's breastwhile he in-
dignantlycarrieson about Martin'svulgarity.In anotherscene,a pseudo-Brechtian
chorus makes off-colormusical commentariesabout Ruth'spious praises of Mr.
Butler,thepoor boy who made good by sacrificing his healthon his way to thetop.
In stillanotherscene, one which also illustratestheeffectof Ruth'sharpingabout
Butler'shardwork,RuthpushesMartinstagecenteruntilhe fallsintoan open trap.
She thenslams thedoor shut.

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440 / TI,December
1981

The abundanceof scenicinvention,whichcommunicatesboth London'stextand

the troupe'sparticularreadingof it, presentsa seriesof dramaticmoments.These
proceedmuch like thediscreteimagesthatcompose a film,witheach scene fixing
itselfon thebrainbeforethenextone is established.The cinematicqualityof Martin
Eden is furtherenhancedby theuse of musicalcommentary.The guitarpickingof
Leo KottkebecomesMartin'stheme,recurring throughout theplay as a consistently
sympatheticvoice. Other musical accompaniments,such as the Texas Mexican
Boys' songs, give local color to various episodes. Still others,notably Schubert's
"Deathand theMaiden,"reinforcetheemotionalcontent.The sound systembathes
the public in the pathos of Schubertwhile Martin, in the final eight-minute se-
quence, wraps himselfin a huge whitesheetand "descendsinto the sea."
MartinEden, despitethe use of thesecinematiceffects,is beforeall else an ex-
travagantlytheatricalpiece, dependingon thecontactbetweenaudienceand actors
to make it work. The enclosedset establishesan immediatephysicalconnectionbe-
tween public and players. They inhabit the same space. If distancedfromthe
charactersby the satire, the spectators kineticallyparticipate in the actors'
movements.The public thus"identifies" withthe actors.
This identification
givesan entirelydifferentdimensionto thetheatrepiece; forby
adheringto theactorsratherthanthecharacters,theaudiencesharestheirreadingof
thenovel. The space then,particularlyin itsabstractquality,can be consideredthe
space of thereadingand theproductionan explorationof theprocessof reading.By
deconstructingand reconstructingthe novel, the Salamandre shows the in-
terdependency of the maintenanceof culturalmythsand how one reads. Each in-
fluencesthe other. When the spectatorssee what the Salamandre sees in Martin
Eden, especiallysince the scenic action usually contradictsthe text,theyare en-
couragedto considerhow theystructure what theythemselvesread.

The Sea Wall counts among MargueriteDuras's most overtlyautobiographical

works.14Writtenin 1950, thenovel fictionalizesDuras's memoriesof growingup in
FrenchIndochinain the 1920s. The storyis based on hermother'sbeingduped by
colonialistpropagandaintoleavingFranceand spendingall hersavingson a worth-
less riceplantation.Her resultingobsessionwithdammingup thesea to keepitfrom
destroyingher crops gives both the titleand major themeto the novel.
Duras's narrativedepictsin a timecontinuumtheslow deathof themother(never
named) and thecorresponding liberationof herchildren,Suzanne and Joseph.The
firsthalfchroniclesone of thelast maineventsin theirlives,theencounterwithMr.
Jo, vapid son of a rich colonial planter.His pursuitof sixteen-year-old
Suzanne
preoccupiestheentirefamily- virilebrotherJosephscorningMr. Jo'stimidity, the
mothertornbetweendisgustwithher own desireto exchangeSuzanne formoney
forthedams and realconcernoverherdaughter'sfuture,and Suzanne herselflosing
her naivetywhile learninghow to survive.In the end, Mr. Jo'sdesperategiftof a

14MargueriteDuras, Un Barragecontrele Pacifique(Paris: Gallimard,1950).

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441 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

diamond "no stringsattached"saves his face and rekindlesthe family'shopes of

escapingtheirpoverty.
The second halfof thenovel concentrates morespecificallyon thechildren'scom-
of
ing age. It commences by a sketch of Saigon wherethefamilygoes to sell Mr. Jo's
tokenof self-esteem.When Josephdisappearsinto thecitywitha platinumblonde
protectress,the mother collapses. The familyfinallyreturnsto its provincial
bungalow; but Josephleaves again. Suzannechooses to giveaway hervirginity to a
local farmer;and the motherdies.

Althoughthestoryof thefamilystructures thenarrative,extensiveand horrifying

descriptionsof peasant life,particularlyof theindigentchildren,completethepor-
trait of colonized Indochina. Duras also includes several fine-honed,satirical
characterizationsof colonial types;forexample,Pa Bart,an alcoholicpernodsmug-
glerand recipientof theFrenchgovernment's Legiond'Honneurforyearsof faithful
servicein thecolonies; or theCorporal,a Malaysian deafmanand formervolunteer
to a chain gang whose guardskepthis wifeclothed,fed,and pregnant.Exceptfor
thehopelessMr. Jo,Duras sheltersotherexorbitantly wealthywhitesfromdirectex-
posure by sarcasticallykeepingthemin "theupperdistrict"of Saigon, enjoying"in
undilutedpeace, the sacred spectacleof [their]own existence."15
Ratherlike a well-madeplay, The Sea Wall setsup itsconclusionin theopening
chapter;an introductionwhichalso immediatelyestablishesthe pointof view, the
metaphorfortheunfoldingof thestory,and themajor themes.The firstlineposits
the familyunitas the collectiveconsciousnessof thenovel: "All threeof themhad
thoughtit was a good idea to buy thathorse ... ."16Thus the novel evolves as a
functionof theirexperience,not focusingon any one memberin particular.Most of
thetime"theirexperience"is seen fromthedetachedpositionof thenarrator,whose
cynicalunderstanding of theexploitationof thepoor by therichgivesthenarration
an ironicalcast.
The family'svictimizationby the colonial land developersand theirresulting
frustrationand anger- which most oftencause themto lash out at each otherin
mean exchanges-create a tensionwhichunderliesthenovel fromits beginningto
the mother'sdeath. The love-hate bond between the childrenand theirmother
originallyrevealsitselfin theirreactionto themoribundhorse,heranalogue. They
both want the animal to go on livingand hope he will end theirlong wait and die.
Suzanne and Josephentertainmany explicitdreamsof escape - in particularvi-
sions of miraculousarrivalsof latter-dayprincesor princesseswho sweep them
away in shiningblack cars. Music, hunting,movies representa kind of freedom.
Throughthem,the childrengrasp at a lifebeyond the barrenplains of Kam. The
motherescapes onlyintoherobsession.It is thedrivingforcewhichkeepsheralive.
chronologicallyordered,and easy to read, The Sea Wall fits
Straightforward,
withintheconventionsof thenineteenth-century
novel. Indeed,of Duras's eighteen

15MargueriteDuras, The Sea Wall, trans.Herma Briffault

(New York: Farrar,Straussand Giroux,
1952), p. 137.
16 TheSea Wall,p. 1.

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442 / TI,December
1981

novels,itis themosttraditional,makinguse ofnonfloating dialogueand wittycom-

mentarysituatedwithina plot, and presentingsane, or at least understandably
disturbedcharacters. Humorous in its sarcasm, painful in its knowledge, a
bildungsroman of a family,and portraitof a people, The Sea Wall grabsitsreaders
not by teasingthemto understanding, but by piquingtheircuriosityabout how the
authorwill completea good story.
Twenty-sevenyears separate the publications of The Sea Wall and Eden
Cinema,17Duras's adaptation.In between,she has writtensome fortyotherworks,
includinga dozen filmscenarios. To do justice to her recentnarratives,a critic
would not spendmuchtimedescribingwhat thecharactersdo or what happensto
them.The interestof thesetextslies not in the eventsbut in the unresolvedand
unresolvable tension which is communicated - a straining which radically
transforms nonhappeningsinto experience.
With such a change in style,it is not surprisingthat Duras's reworkingof her
traditionalnovel resultsin a highlyexperimentalplay. Eden Cinema, narrated
ratherthanperformed, setsbeforethespectatorsa hiddenbut potentway of struc-
turingexistence.
A resumeof the"events"of theplay would read almostlikea resumeof thenovel;
even the two-partdivisionremains.Duras has selectedcertainpassages to use in-
tact- such as Joseph'srecountingof the initial meetingwith his new mistress.
Others, such as Mr. Jo's wooing of Suzanne, have been condensed-sometimes
mimereplacingthenarration.As in thenovel, theambiguousrelationshipbetween
themembersof thefamilyunderpinsthenarrative.These similarities, however,are
onlysuperficial;forthesubtlechangesin focusand less subtlechangesin formyield
an entirelydifferent
work,particularlyfrom thepoint of view of thepublicwho ex-
periences it.
First,Duras has alteredthefocus.Eden Cinematellsthemother's,notthefamily's,
story.She is thecentralpivot aroundwhicheverything else revolves.In factin the
stage directionsDuras calls her "theobject of the narration"(p. 12). The play thus
commencesby Suzanne and Josephnarrating theevents of her life.Certainchanges
in theiraccountgiveshercharactermorestrength and interestthanin thenovel; for
example, accordingto the play, the motherwent to Indochinaalone, beforeshe
married.
Duras also adds anotherdimensionto theportrayalof themother.In the novel
she does not insiston theelementalconnectionbetweenthemother(mere)and the
sea (mer).In theplay thisequationbecomesimmediately clear- bothphysicallyand
As
verbally. object of the narration,the mother does not move, but is, rather,a
monolithicpresencearound whom Suzanne and Josephturn,unable to separate
themselves.They are as obsessedby heras she is by thesea. The children'schanted
presentationof theirmotherritualizesher,creatingan other-worldly ambianceand
establishingher as a forcegreater than a singleindividual. In one of theircomments
on heremotionalstrength, they totally assimilateher to other natural forces:

will be in
Duras, I'Eden Cinema (Paris: Mercurede France,1977). Additionalreferences
17 Marguerite

the text.

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443 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

Without
God, themother.
Without
master.
Without
measure.Withoutlimits(. ..)
Theforest,
themother,
theocean.
[p. 17]
The play, then,has a mythicdimensionthenovel does not. Not merelya statement
about Suzanneand Joseph'smother,itis about "Mother,"as sheforms,controls,and
hauntsherchildren.
This idea of "Mother,"begun in Suzanne and Joseph'snarration,ultimately
becomes Suzanne's perception.Her consciousnessstructuresthe play in the "past
made present"of hermemory.In fact,thespace of therepresentation is essentially
thatof Suzanne's remembering. Her effort,and to a certainextentJoseph's,is to
resuscitatethe mother,dead when theplay begins.
This makes therelationshipbetweenSuzanne and themotheran extensionof the
centralfocus. As the play progresses,Suzanne and an additionalnarratorcalled
"The Voice of Suzanne" attemptto assert the independenceof her consciousness
fromthemother'sstillpowerfuldomination.Only by metaphorically recreatingthe
motherand buryingher again can Suzanne finallyachieve selfhood.
For herplay of Suzanne's memory,Duras has chosen a formwhichtakes its in-
spirationfromfilm;the flashes,the imprinting, the haziness,the sensualityof the
moviesalso beingqualitiesof theremembering mind.Duras has even giventhetitle
of a cinemahouse to her play. The spectators,then,experienceEden Cinema as a
seriesof evolvingimages.Thereis first"a long shot"of thestageitself,withitscon-
centricsquares definedby thelighting.Althoughone square represents thefamily's
bungalowand theothertheplainsofKam, theeffectis ofvast nothingness, a spatial
metaphorforthefamily'smisery,and perhapsforSuzanne'smemoryat thebegin-
ningof theplay. Suzanne, themother,Joseph,and laterMr. Joenterand take their
places stagefront.Two speciallydesignatednarratorswho readpartsofthetext,are
seated downstage.Despite occasional breaksin theflatqualityof theperformance,
mostof the"action"occurson theapron wheretheactorsstandin a row facingthe
audience. Sometimestheynarrateand mimetheaction. Sometimestheymerelynar-
rate. Sometimestheirvoices are replacedby thoseof theseatednarrators;and they
performin slow stylizedmotionswhatis described.Most of thetimetheydissociate
what is said fromhow theymove, creatingthefeelingof a dream,an hallucination,
a memory- or a faultyprojection.
Indeed,Carol Murphynotesthatthecombinationand oftendissociationofmime,
off-stagevoice, and piano music resemblethe silent movie world of the Eden
CinemawheretheMotherplayedaccompaniments duringheryoungwomanhood.'18
Lifeand the movies passed her by there,whereshe could not even see the screen
positionedtoo highabove herhead. Only themusicwas hers,a musicwhichin the
stage version replaces her voice, speakingin her place, definingher as does her
silence.
As fascinatingas are the visual images, the hauntingrefrain,and the hypnotic
rhythm,theydo not alone carrythepiece. Eden Cinemareliesfinallyon whatonly

18 Carol Murphy,"I'EdenCinema,"(CreativeWorks,reviews)FrenchReview(December1978), p. 381.

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444 / TI,December
1981

live theatrepossesses- thephysicalpresenceof theactors.Withso littleactionevery

gesturehas an extraordinary resonance- thusin a mimedsequencewhenthefamily
"walks to the village,"theyseem to burstforthfromthe stage. And althoughthe
cataloguing of the horrorsof themother'slifepartiallysustainsthedramatictension,
thestrained,barelymobilebodies of theactorsare what keep theaudienceon edge.
Emotional ambiguityreflectedcorporallyreplaces the ideological conflictwhich
propels otherdramas. In the second part of the play (a narrativeduet between
Suzanne and her voice) a singleraisedeyebrowor a quarterturnof thehead elec-
trifiesthespace betweentheactors,makingit almosttactile.
By functioning on thissensorylevel,Eden Cinemais bothless engageand harsher,
moreprovocativethanthenovel. The recreationof themotherand theexploration
of Suzanne'srelationshipwithherexcludeor subordinatemostof thepoliticalsatire
and social commentary.No detachedauthor'svoice ironizesover the fate of In-
dochina. In facttheonlycolonial typeincludedin theplay, otherthanMr. Jo,is the
Corporal who sitssilentlyon stage,in lovinghomage to themother.
The play'slanguage,strippedof emotionalism,neverdisguisesthelove-haterela-
tionshipbetweenthe motherand her children.Remembering thepast, Suzanne is
morelucid and uncompromising thanwhenshe lived it. She now knowshow much
she neededhermotherto die; but also how muchshe loved her. The materialization
of thisambiguitysculptedbeforethespectators'eyes recallstheirown paradoxical
longingsfor absorptionand separation,longingswhich characterizethe mother-
childlink. In its mythicaldimensionEden Cinema illustratesthereal cost of an in-
dividual'spsychologicalfreedom.
Whethertheaudienceadheresto theillustration dependsin parton itswillingness
to allow itselfto enterinto the world of the play. Despite the suggestiveforceof
Suzanne's descriptions,the spectatorshave to work hard to create out of the
unblinkingold lady on stage the stubbornand dynamicwoman fromSuzanne's
past. The play calls upon themindirectly butcalls upon them,nevertheless,to make
analogiesfromtheirown experience. Eden Cinema is no
therefore paradoxicaldiver-
tissement but rather an invitationto a voyage through the mind of a complex
character.It resolvesnothingbut leaves thespectatorson thethresholdof theirown
remembrances.

Read in adolescence,rereadin adulthood, Charles Dickens'sDavid Copperfield

(1850) changesin meaningbut not in impact.Multileveled,fantasmagoric, thisfic-
tionalizedautobiographyspeaks throughDavid's (and Dickens's)intimaterecollec-
tionsto thechildin thereader- bothas thechildwas and stillis and as thechildhas
grownup to be. The densityof thereadingexperiencestemsin partfromthiscom-
plexrelationshipto thereader,but also fromthedensityof David's own adventures,
thenuancesin thepointof view, and theseveralinterpretations to whichthenovel
lends itself.

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445 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

From his portentousbirthto his second but at last maturemarriage,David-

Dickens reconstructshis passions, his travails,his good luck, his stupidity,his
wisdomin a 1,000-pagechroniclethattakeshimfromBlunderstone to Yarmouthto
London to Canterburyto thecontinentand back to London again. These stopson
David's way to manhood come alive because of his interactionwiththe characters
who both lived in his past and who live on in the presentof his rememberings:
Clara, his doll-likemother;Peggotty,his salt-of-the earthnurse; theMurdstones,
horrificexemplarsof Victorianabsurdities;the Micawbers,mock-heroesof their
own absurdities;JamesSteerforth, a troublingfallenangel; LittleEmily,a fallen
angel of another kind; Aunt BetseyTrotwood, David's hard-on-the-outside-soft-on-
theinsidesavior; Mr. Dick, her otherbut brilliantlysimple-minded protege;Uriah
Heep, the most reptilianof all thenovel's villains; and Agnes Wickfield,the most
saintlikeof its heroines.A thoroughdiscussionof all thecharactersand all theex-
ploitswould entailpages of analysisso fullof extraordinary personalities,seminal
moments,fortunate coincidences,momentousencounters,and evil influencesthatit
mightseema fairytale ratherthanthehauntingand profoundrethinking and reliv-
ing of David-Dickens'sown lifethatit is.
Rethinking and relivingitis, indeed,as David-Dickens,theadultstoryteller,
takes
his distancefromor identifies withthechildin his story.Sometimeshe interjectsa
noteofironyas whenhe talksabout his earlylove affairs.Sometimeshe satirizeshis
own presumptuousness as a young dandy. Oftenhe reexperiencescompletelythe
terrorsand abjectionof a childforcedtoo earlyto fendforhimselfand to cope with
others'sadism and instability.
At all timesDickens, as author and controllingvoice, infuseshis storywith a
greatsweetness- thesweetnessof thewriterwho likeshischaractersand appreciates
his createdworld,howeverharsh.By theend of thenovel, thegood have won, the
bad have experiencedtheirjust deserts.Everycharacterhas a place in thedifficult
but nonalienatingschemeof thingswhichinformsthe novel'sworld view.
Beyondthemythicqualityof thisrestorationof order,Dickensalso establishesa
subterranean level of familyrelationships.A murkysensualitypermeatesthissuper-
ficially sexless novel. The myriad emotional couplings-those of fathersand
daughtersand mothersand sons takingprecedenceoverhusbandsand wives- hints
at the subconsciousdesiresand psychologicalwarpingrifewithinthefamily,and
particularlythe Victorianfamily.David sees but does not understand;his almost
unrelievedchildlikenaivetymasks but cannothide therelentlesslibidinaldrive.
Whetherread as a simpleadventurestoryset in VictorianEngland,a bildungs-
romanculminatingin selfawareness,or a mythicreconstruction of archaicattach-
mentsand unsuccessfulsublimations,David Copperfieldworkson thereader'sown
perceptionsof his or herpast and presentlife.A formativenovel, itinfluenceswith-
out simplifyingthe reader'sunderstanding of childhoodexperience.
It took many individualtalentsto recreatethevital world of David Copperfield
forthecontemporary Frenchstage. However,thetwo troupeswhichtook thistask
upon themselvesbroughtto bear botha longexperienceofcollectiveendeavorand a
personal investmentin portrayingDickens's world. Their effortsled at least one

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446 / 1981
TI,December

criticto commentthatthe theatricalDavid Copperfieldsenthim marvellingback

not only into Dickens'sbut also his own childhood.19
The Theatredu Campagnoland theThe~tredu Soleil began theircollaborationin
thesummerof 1976 whenArianeMnouchkine,directorof theSoleil,lenthertheatre
to Jean-ClaudePenchenat,a formermemberof hertroupeand founderof theCam-
pagnol. While Mnouchkinecontinuedto work on her filmMolilre, Penchenat
directedtwenty-four actors fromboth troupesin improvisationsof thirty-sixof
Dickens'scharacters.Dickens's own highlytheatrical drawn
characterizations, with
broad strokesand repletewithprivateticsand speechpatterns,helped orientthe
improvising.20
Unlike the Salamandre,which limiteditselfto London's text,the Campagnol-
Soleil fabricatedits own out of theimprovisations.While theactors'masterfulim-
personationspreservethe feelingof Dickens, theirtextrarelyduplicatesor even
paraphraseshis words. To presenttheyouthfulness and vigorof Dr. Strong,forex-
ample, the character entersjogging,followed by his studentswho thenlisten,enrap-
tured, to a discourse on tropes,a discourseDr. Strong nevermakes in thenovel.
Withan eye fortheperfectrejoinder,the companydoes keep such linesas Mr.
Dick's advice to AuntBetseyabout whatto do withDavid: "WhyifI was you ... I
should... wash him;"2'and Agnes'savowal to David at theplay'send: "I have loved
However,most of the dialogue, and theoccasional narratedin-
you all my life!"22
troductionto a new movement,is invented.Additionssuch as Miss Murdstone's
crueldrillingof David on theimperfectsubjunctiveof theverb"astreindre" turnshis
gallic one.
plightinto a distinctively
The companyalso develops metaphorssuggestedby Dickens and uses themon
stage to link discreteepisodes of the novel. For example,a seriesof comparisons
withflowershelpssituatethe othercharactersin relationto David and establishes
transitionsbetweensuccessivesequences. As in the novel, Steerforth calls David
"Daisy"; but Rosa Dartle adds that he is a venomous flower.This foreshadows
David's unwittingorchestration of the seductionof LittleEmily.
Whiletheorganizationof theplay roughlyfollowsthenovel's,theplay condenses
the finaltwo-thirds of the narrativeinto its second half. The firstconcentrateson
David's childhood,includinghis birthand joyous infancy,the terrorsof theSalem
House boardingschool, his introduction to theMicawbers,and his rescueby Aunt
Betsey. The second half, which focuses on his adolescence,beginswithDavid's en-
trance to Dr. Strong's school and continues withhis encounterwiththeHeeps, his
reunion with Steerforth, Steerforth's"capturing" of LittleEmily,David's marriage
with Dora, and his confession of love to Agnes. The play ends with David, the

19 MattieuGaley in Le Quotidiende Paris (November1977), as citedin theunpublishedpressdossierof

David Copperfield.
20
Informationon the improvisationsof David Copperfieldare from a personal interviewwith
ChristineFoucherof the Campagnol,June1979 in Paris.
21 CharlesDickens, David Copperfield(London: Penguin,1966), p. 249. The Campagnol-Soleilused

thePliade editionof David Copperfield(Trans. PierreLeyris,MadeleineRossel,AndreParreauxet al.,

EditionsGallimard,1954) as well as the Englishoriginalfortheiradaptation.
22 Dickens, p. 937.

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447 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

writer,takingup thenarrativefromthebeginningofthenovel: "WhetherI shallturn

out to be thehero of my own life,or whetherthatstationwill be held by anybody
else, thesepages mustshow."23
The play both excludesthe novel's social satireof solicitors,barristers,and the
Englishcourtsystemand itsconcludingepisodesof themajorsubplotsof LittleEmi-
ly and thePeggottys,theMicawbers,and UriahHeep. It also omitsthecomplexities
of the Steerforth-David relationshipand neverpositsthedichotomyof Steerforth-
Agnes. The adaptation,however,particularlyin thescenicwriting,does reinforce
thenovel'ssuggestionof thedubious qualityof theparent-child relationship.Uriah,
forexample,never appears on stage withouthis mother.Agnes singsa Victorian
song called "Daddy" whose words promise:"I will be yourlittlewifeon Earthwhile
Mommy'sin the sky."The same actressperformsboth the roles of Clara, David's
child-mother and Dora, David's child-bride.
These changes,especiallygiventhetheatricalpotentialof the"tying-up" episodes
at theend of thenovel, would seemarbitrary ifthegoal of theadaptationhad been
to tellthestoryof David Copperfield.However,theactorsneverintendedto tella
storybut ratherto reconstruct a seriesofmemories,bothas David experiencedthem
and as theyexperiencedDavid experiencing them.Indeed duringtheentireyear of
rehearsals, the actors infused their improvisationswith their own childhood
memoriesand privatereminiscences. The resultwas a recreationnotonlyofDavid's
past but also, to a certainextent,theirown.
The manyaspectsofmemoryinformtheconceptionof theplayingarea as well as
influencingthe lighting,costumes,movement,and music. Throughthe physical
elementsof theperformance, thedomainofmemorybecomespalpable. The playing
area, cavernous and dusty,resemblesa grandparent'satticor a marvellouspawn
shop, with old clothes, bric-a-brac,bits and pieces of material and furniture
suspendedfromthe fliesor propped againstthewalls. Divided into two halves by
the lighting,the frontportionis thedomain of presentmemorywhile thedimmed
back halfhouses all othermemories,past or about to sallyforth.SplendidVictorian
chandeliersbathe theplayersin a haze of yellowlight,while thegreyedgreensand
violetsof the opulentcostumescompletethe illusionof a long-agoengraving.
The movementreinforces thespectators'discernment of memoriespassingbefore
theireyes. Charactersfade in and out fromone level of consciousnessto another.
Theirexaggeratedgesturesgive themthemythicdimensionof a childhoodstillpres-
ent in the mind.
The quality of another"dimensionality," a different
place fromwhere lives are
consciouslylived, is secondedby themusic- a compilationof Victorianhymnsand
popular songs. Sung in English, they not only provide leitmotifsfor certain
charactersbut also add thesensationof strangeness
whichcomeswitha voyageto a
distantshore.
Framedand permeatedby this realm of memory,the action immediatelycalls
forthDavid's past. In thefirstscene all thecharacters,exceptDavid, emergeseem-

23 Dickens, p. 49.

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lip?

!rib ;r
ZP

5
. 1,

David Copperfield:PeggottycomfortsDavid. Photographyby LeslyHamilton.

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449 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

inglyrandomlyfromthe semidarknessin a reviewof his life.They muttera phrase

or a word whichcharacterizesthemwhile wanderingacross the playingarea. The
audience thus "sees" David's memorybeforeseeing him. Footstepsannounce the
adult David - therememberer - who commencesto narrate;but a biteintoan apple
sends him Proust-likeback into his childhoodto act out a game withPeggotty.
Althoughthe adult David's memoryencompassesthe action, his rememberings
are uncoloredby his adult consciousness.The child in him dominatesfromthe
beginningto theend; and as thereis constantwonderin what he sees in his mind's
eyes,thereis no satirein theplay. Occasionally,however,David loses controlofhis
visions. His "I," the framingvoice, is replacedby another"I," for example, Mr.
Micawber's,who thenintroducesin a shortnarrationthenextsequence.This occur-
rencemakescleartheforceofinvoluntarymemory;forit is usuallyother"I's"which
bringup the most troublesomemomentsof David's past.
The most spectacularexample of thistakes place in the second half of theplay
when, in a topsy-turvy switchfromthe novel's point of view, Miss Mowcher,a
four-footcelestina,stagestheseductionof LittleEmily.Likea hideousimpressario
fromBarnumand Bailey,she flashesonto thestage(and intoDavid's memory),in-
troducesthecharacters,and setstheactionintomotion.Whileshewatches,cackling
fromher spotlitposition,Steerforth robs Emilyof her innocence.Demonlike,Miss
Mowcherthencalls forththeviolenttempestwhichdestroysSteerforth. Thiswhole
fantasma,uniquein theflowof David's touchingbut usuallynothorriblememories,
seems to indicateconsiderableguiltin any recollection,voluntaryor as here in-
voluntary,of Steerforth and LittleEmily.
To speak of theflowof memoriesaptlydescribesthestructure of thepiece,which
can neitherbe dividedinto scenes nor into clear remembrances of separateadven-
tures.As in thefunctioning of memory,freeassociation,sensoryperceptions,fan-
tasy, and transferenceplay an importantrole in evolving the images. Other
memorieskeep forcingtheirway into David's centerof consciousness.Characters
show up wheretheyshould not. For example,while David remembersa squabble
he, Peggotty,and his motherwere havingover the latter'ssocial life,Aunt Betsey
pipes up about Clara's "featherbrain"and Mrs. Micawberwandersacross theback
of theplayingarea murmuring, "I'll neverleave you Micawber,never!"24
Transitionsare sometimesmanagedby replacing- as in a dream- one character
by another:Mrs. Micawber,on one side oftheplayingarea, startsto tellthestoryof
"Tom Thumb"to herchildrenbut Mr. Dick finishesit, tellingit to a big-eyedDavid
while Mrs. Micawber disappearsinto darkness.Also, as in a dream,at certainex-
tremelyemotionalmomentsthe visual overwhelmsthe vocal; mimereplacestext.
Sometimeseven theaural makeswordssuperfluous - suchas thesound of hammer-
ing on wood to signalDavid's mother'sdeath.
While thereis muchmoreaction in David Copperfieldthanin Eden Cinema,the
slownessand stylizationof themovementscreatea similarhallucinatoryeffect.The

24 The Theiatredu Campagnol/Theitredu Soleil, David Copperfield,unpublishedmanuscript,p. 6.

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450 / TI,December1981

?, :IN
:~WN

Mr. Creaklelecturestheboys of SalemHouse. Photograph

David Copperfield: by Jean-
ClaudeBourbault.
audience, a good deal more easily than in Eden Cinema, entersinto the on-stage
memories,charmedto rediscoverDavid and its own childhood. By transferring
David's recollectionsto thestage,theCampagnol-Soleilpreservesone of theprinci-
ple interestsof thenovel- the considerationof how a mindremembersand struc-
turesitspast. By givingtheiradaptationtheever-changing shape of memoryitself,
thecompanyillustratesto thepublic thefunctioning of its own mind.

The precedinganalyses of Martin Eden, Eden Cinema and David Copperfield

make clear the distinctionand the distancebetween the novels and the theatre
pieces- which ratherthan adaptations ought to be termed"explorations,"each
resultingin a discreteartisticdiscovery.All three"explorations"
pointout theinade-
quacy of definitions
traditional of and
"narrative" "dramatic,"such as MartinEsslin's
which states that narrativeequals past action and dramaticmeans present.25In
David Copperfieldand Eden Cinemathepast becomesonlyhalfpresentbecause itis
filteredthroughthe shadowy domain of memory,another dimensionof time
altogether;and MartinEden,seventy-five percentnarrative,is verypresentindeed.
In fact,as seenin all theadaptations,thetransformation
fromnovel to theatrein-
volves maintaining a narrativelinebut makingit theatricalby employingcinematic

25MartinEsslin,An Anatomyof Drama (New York: Hill and Wang, 1976).

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451 / FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

techniques.The adaptorsconsiderthespace ratherthanthepage as theframework

for theirwriting.Thus the plays proceed by images,in a frontalformat,withno
blackoutsbetweenscenes. Structuredin sequences,theadaptationsincludeaspects
of montagesuch as ruptures,juxtapositions,and clashes of meaning,permitting a
kindofmetatext,or commentaryon thenarrativeby thestructure.Lookingat these
parallelswithcinemafromanotherangle, one mighteven posit thattheutilization
of cinematictechniquescomes to the theatrenot so muchfromthecinemaas from
contemporary experimentationwithnarrativestructuresin literature,
researchitself
inspired,accordingto Keith Cohen, by film.26
These contemporary adaptationsalso refutetraditionalnotionsof"character." For
example,NorthropFrye'sdivisionof dramatispersonnaeintothefourcategoriesof
mythic,heroic,realistic,and ironic,accordingto the relationof the spectatorsto
them,27does not really describethe charactersin these adaptations. Despite the
mythictouchesto the motherin Eden Cinema and Dickens's phantomsin David
Copperfield,the charactersin all the adaptations remainfictions.The audience
neverloses sightof theirstatusas inventionsbecause thenarratoris always present.
Identificationwiththe charactersis thusprecluded.
Yet since theverynatureof thephysicalpresenceof theactorselicitsidentifica-
occurs. Ultimatelythepoint of view in each of theplays is not
tion, identification
the central character'sbut ratherthe narrators'- in David Copperfield,the in-
dividual actors'whose own pasts color Dickens's; in MartinEden, the troupe's;in
Eden Cinema- in a complicatedvariation-, the character-narrator Suzanne'sand
"The Voice of Suzanne."The public thusidentifieswiththeactor-narrator, theper-
sonificationof the narrativevoice, insteadof with thecharacter.
This new relationshipwith the actor as narratorratherthan as character,rein-
forcedparticularlyin thespatial arrangement of MartinEden,makes theseadapta-
tionsvery"modern."For althoughtheprocessharksback to a Brechtianconception
of epic theatre,itshouldnotbe confusedwithit. Epic theatrecalls fora reflection
on
history.Here what is broughtinto question is the act of the mindstructuring the
world-either imaginativelythroughliterature(as in Martin Eden) or selectively
throughmemory(as in Eden Cinema and David Copperfield):MartinEden shows
how different readingsyield differenttruths.Eden Cinema suggestshow memory
can help createa self. David Copperfieldillustrateshow memoryis storedup and
experienced.
These threeadaptationstearaparttraditionalnovelspreciselyin orderto explore
consciousnessthroughform,somethingthat modernnovels have been doing in
spurtsand waves since the turnof the century.If the theatrepieces have no con-
scious or self-conscious"hero,"it is because thelinkaudience-narrator
providesthe
consciousnessof the dramaticexperience.All threeadaptations demand a new
responseto theorderingof existence:the Salamandreby explodingthecomplacent
readingof a "realistic"novel, Duras by preservingtheindetermination and opacity

26 Keith Cohen, Film and Fiction: The Dynamics of Exchange(New Haven: Yale UniversityPress,
1979).
27
NorthropFrye,Anatomyof Criticism(Princeton:PrincetonUniversityPress, 1957).

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452 / TI, December1981

of experience,and theCampagnol-Soleilby visualizingthecomplicatedfunctioning

of memory.
Contemporaryadaptations,then,are anythingbut "admissionsof impotency."
Nor are theymegalomaniacalrealizationsof all-powerful directors,or a throwback
to worn-outtechniques.Rather,theyare somewhat in line with the earlierex-
perimentsof the surrealists-butnot so incoherent-and of Beckett-but not so
centeredon a privateawareness.They participatein thesame probingas American
avant-gardistsRichardForemanand RobertWilson, although,because theyare
based on someoneelse's"story,"theydo not confinethemselvesto themindof the
individualcreator(a practicewhichoftenresultsin theatricalhermeticism). Theyre-
spond to Francis Fergusson'squestioning, decades old but stillpertinent,of what
idea of theatreis possiblein a formlesstime28 by answering that even iftheatrecan
no longerexpresswhat is "real,"it can go beyond a representation of the world's
emptiness and confusion to become a laboratoryforhuman consciousness. Adapta-
tionsare not a retreatto an art of an earliertimebut a gropingtowardsthefuture.

28 FrancisFergusson,The Idea of Theater:A Study of Ten Plays (Princeton:PrincetonUniversity

Press,1949).

-????..........
The Bacchaeat theUniversity by Alan Magayne-Roshak.
of Wisconsin.Photograph See
Theatrein Review, page 537.

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